'Herr Siggy,' Gippel said, 'I just wish you hadn't brought it up.'
'What did I bring up?' said Siggy.
'Laws!' said Gippel. 'You went and reminded me.' And Freina came back in the screen door and gave Siggy a green piece of paper, face down.
'What's that?' I said.
'It's our fine!' said Siggy.
'Oh!' Gippel cried. 'What manner of man am I?'
'Who in hell are you?' said Siggy.
'The fish-and-game warden,' Gippel said.
'This is just terrible,' said Freina, and she went out again.
'It's nice,' said Siggy. 'I always say it's nice to make a friend of the local gamekeeper.'
'Oh, that's something to be thankful for,' said Gippel. 'That's why it's only fifty schillings.'
'Fifty schillings?' I said.
'It was the least I could do,' said Gippel, who moved to the screen door himself now. 'If you'll excuse me a moment,' he said. 'I'm just so ashamed.' And he went very sadly out on the porch.
'The frotting thief!' I said. 'How close is the bike parked?'
'Well, Graff,' said Siggy. 'It's parked about a foot from where Gippel's sitting, giving comfort to his gentle wife.'
'Fifty schillings, Sig!' I said.
But Siggy took the right note from his duckjacket. 'You go give them this comfort, Graff,' he said. 'I'll be just a minute inside.'
So I went to cheer up the kindly people; we all sat on the porch and watched the witless goat squaring off with the motorcycle trying to get up the nerve for the initial ram.
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Then Siggy came out, quite choked up himself, and that was enough to set off poor Freina again. 'Oh, they're sure lovely boys!' she wept.
'Oh, sweet, sweet,' said Gippel. 'The laws are just vile!' he roared. 'Allowances should be made for boys like these.'
But Siggy said, 'Now, now' - with a forearm bolstering up his belly. 'It was such a feed we had, it was worth fifty schillings.' And that did surprise all of us - brought Freina back to her senses and her alert, pale, winking eyes. Poor Gippel was agog, with nothing more to say.
So they watched us climb on the motorcycle. We stood off the goat and were careful this time to avoid the driveway. The pigs began their insane running.
'It's amazing,' I said to Siggy, 'the deals one can make for breakfast.' But I felt something hard against his belly, under the duckjacket. 'What have you got there?' I said.
'Frau Freina Gippel's frying-pan,' said Siggy, 'and one flint, one bottle-opener, one corkscrew and a saltshaker.'
Well, we were pinched by the fence rows when we came near the road, and we were forced into the driveway for a moment. But this time we had the speed behind us and we slurred out on the road. We could see Gippel waving both his arms like a madman; Frau Freina was swelling her breast and waving, kissing her fingers goodbye to us. The tires skidded us into the ruts, and again beat themselves clean of the driveway. The old mud flung madly after us; thot, thot, thot it went on the downhill road.
'There are certain investments required,' said Siggy, 'if one is to live off the land.' And the frying-pan was still warm under his jacket.
Where the Walruses Are
AS THE NOTEBOOK has it:
There are certain investments required.